Resurrecting Mutiny
by Sunblind
Summary: Affected by his mother's confession, Draco slowly turns into a better person, realising the value of friendship, love, and many other things that he had missed out in all his past 6 years in Hogwarts. He is now in his 7th and last year.
1. One

Draco woke to the insistent pats slapped onto his cheeks. Still in his beautiful slumber; he groaned and turned to his other side, smacking the person's hand away.

"Wake up! Wake up, oh dear Draco…" It was a lady's voice set on an anxious tone. But he cared less. Draco continued snoring.

And among the lovely dreams he had been having tonight, the sound of a female sobbing came across his consciousness. _Mother. _It sounded just like Mother and her useless sniffles whenever he was sent off to Hogwarts. But no, he was only due for Hogwarts the next month…

He bolted right up off bed, his eyes huge and vacant when he realized his mother was crouched at his bedside, crying as if she was truly, in her worst denial. He smirked. It must be something about Father having an affair with his young secretary again. Draco hated it whenever his father hurt Mother. To speak the truth, he never loved Lucius Malfoy. As much as he hated to admit, he feared Lucius. He was a Death Eater. He bore the mark. Not someone Draco wanted to trifle with. So he followed everything Father ordered him to; but Mother was the only one he truly loved in this dreadful world that holds no meaning for life for him at all. He only lived for his mother, whom he knew, would cry her eyes dry and bloody if he were to die.

"Oh, dear Draco! My baby!" he winced. "You are finally awake! Hurry off now, here, wear your coat, we have a long journey ahead." Fear and anxiety were scrawled all over his mother's face, and tears were still flowing freely down her cheeks. The young Malfoy also noticed that she lacked her usual make up. Narcissa never went anywhere without her make up, but now Draco also noticed that whatever his mother was hyperventilating about was true. Because there was a large suitcase right beside her, and both of their coats at her right hand.

"Mother? Where are we going? What happened?"

Narcissa had no time to answer her son's questions. Hastily she pulled him out of bed and forced his coat over him. "Now, Malfoy, look at me." He looked at his mother's puffy blue eyes, wondering whether she had gone mentally deranged or something. She had not. He could see the sanity and the calmness in her eyes. "I can't explain it to you now, because we have no time left. I need you to follow me, and trust me in whatever I do."

Mutely, he nodded and followed his mother out of the house as she levitated the suitcase with her wand and they drove her car; out into the darkness of the brooding night.

* * *

Draco Malfoy, the poor boy who had no idea of what is happening, found himself in Hogwarts; apparently a month earlier before school reopens.

And he was in Dumbledore's office.

With his crazy mother.

Who was speaking with Professor Dumbledore in such low voices that he had already given up trying to eavesdrop on them.

He started playing with Fawkes with the tip of his finger, and marveled when she (was it a she?) crumbled into ashes, and a few moments later was reborn again. He saw the sorting hat at the shelf above Dumbledore's desk, and the various portraits of old headmasters and mistresses of Hogwarts hung on the walls. They seemed to be sleeping, because he swore he can hear faint snores. Funny how pictures kept these extraordinary characters alive. Draco suddenly wondered whether witches and wizards ever missed their deceased family members. They could just talk to them in their photographs. He wondered even more, and found himself pondering upon the fact of losing his mother one day. Emptiness started gnawing at his heart, and he cursed his imagination away.

"Alright, Mr. Malfoy. Your mother and I have come to a conclusion. You shall stay in Hogwarts to be kept safe until the school opens the next month." Dumbledore's deep voice suddenly interjecting into his reverie. Draco was sure that he looked confused, for Narcissa gave a nervous laughter before saying, "Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, but I have told my son nothing yet." Dumbledore peered at Draco through his crescent shaped glasses, and then glanced at Draco's mother with very, very light blue mysterious eyes before giving a slight nod. Then he took his seat behind his desk, and Draco's mother started speaking.

"Draco, long ago when I married your father and known that he is a Death Eater, I have known that this fate would befall upon you someday." She took a deep breath, an all too familiar way of steeling herself for a coming blow. _This is no good, _Draco thought to himself. "I used to think that was what I wanted. To join forces and work under the hand of the Dark Lord. I thought if you were to become a Death Eater someday too, it would be a blessing, and not a curse. Even though I was not a Dark Eater, I supported Lucius in his assignments. I thought that as a form of support for the Dark Lord. I felt protected. _We, _Lucius and I, felt protected by the Dark Lord's immense power. And then I had you, Draco, and you were such a beautiful baby, your hair the softest I had ever seen, and your innocent grey eyes looking back at me. I tried to imagine you serving the Lord, and I couldn't."

A tear trickled down Narcissa's cheek and Draco felt a stinging in his eyes too. He balled his fists at his side, verily aware that Dumbledore was watching his every move.

"I couldn't imagine you killing, Draco. I looked into your beautiful eyes and I knew you were meant to do beautiful things. Not dark magic. I thought I failed everyone, including my sister, Bellatrix and my husband, Lucius. Your birth changed me. I never wanted to do anything bad again. But of course I could not disclose this to anyone. I continued playing my role of a supportive but stupid wife. I let Lucius teach you things he wanted you to learn. I let him bring you up to become this… bully." Her eyes softened. "But I believed that beneath your cold exterior there is something greater, something good, something beautiful. I knew everything you did in school; every misdeed, especially to Harry Potter and his friends." Draco managed to stifle a snigger. Now was not a time to interrupt his mother. "And just recently, I overheard Lucius talking to Bellatrix, discussing about your becoming of a Death Eater. And that was when I knew the time has come. That this was the time I have to protect you. That finally I can do my duty as a mother who loves her son. I bring you here, because I know Hogwarts is safe from the threat of the Death Eaters. Including your father." She said the last bit softly and let out her breath, relieved that all she had wanted to say was out, and watched for Draco's reaction. There was only silence and a devoid of emotions in his cold, grey eyes. Oh, how she hoped to see the warmth that was absent in her son's seventeen years!

"Draco?" Suddenly a horrific thought crossed Narcissa's mind. "You – you… You don't want to be a Death Eater, do you?"

Draco Malfoy finally closed his eyes.

And when he opened it again, they were brimming with tears. Tears he never shed to hide his weakness. Tears he had wanted to shed because he was human.

"No, Mother," he whispered, shaking his head vigorously, then dropping to his knees, holding his head in his hands. His tears were flowing more freely now. There was no point in holding them back anymore. "No, no, thank you, Mother." A changed Narcissa knelt down beside her son, as she stroked his white blond hair, but only now this was not the same young boy she used to adore. Not the same boy whose hair she had stroked so many times.

This was her son; a young man with a beautiful heart he will soon discover; her son, who was about to become a better man.


	2. Two

**Author's Note: **_Please do review on my work. I do want to improve in certain aspects. I do welcome criticisms if they are necessary._

* * *

"Father will find me. And wonder where I am." Draco said, after both mother and son have been settled. "What will happen to you? He will know that something is wrong."

This time, Dumbledore spoke.

"Your father, Lucius Malfoy will not be allowed into Hogwart's grounds. Narcissa here, have already discussed with me about a Suspension Order that will disallow a parent to meet his/her child because of very valid reasons. And I am quite sure, Draco, that this is quite a valid reason. Although, of course, I can imagine your father's rage." He clasped his hands together. "As for Narcissa, she will be sent to somewhere safe, where no dark magic can find her. I promise you, Mr. Malfoy, your mother's protection. Are you sure, Mrs. Malfoy, that you do not want your husband arrested?"

Mother nodded her head firmly.

"As much bad that he had done, he is still my husband and I still love him, even if a little. I will not agree to testimony on court. I can't bear to land him in Azkaban."

Draco will miss his father. Even though he was afraid of him, he enjoyed the times when his father taught him how to protect himself, how to intimidate others and get his own way into stuff. It proved useful. _In some ways perhaps, _thought Draco and cringed inwardly as he remembered his mother calling him a bully earlier before. But some part of him had snapped when his mother confessed. Some soft and warm part of his heart was unearthed a little under the cold steel he had spent so many years building. He felt weak right at this moment.

Vulnerable.

Opened to the cruelness and the harsh reality of the world.

Easier to be hurt.

And he did not want to be a Death Eater. Draco knew he could never kill, as much as he wanted to believe that he could. That he could finally impress his unimpressed father. No, but he was never weak. He was brave, strong, and a bully he will remain if that will sustain this strength he felt in him. Being nice and good just made him feel so exposed.

Then Mother left and he proceeded to his Slytherin common room and went to the boys' dormitory. Putting down his suitcase and taking off his coat; he was still wearing his sleep clothes. Then crawling under the clean sheets on his bed prepared for next month, Draco Malfoy suddenly felt so, very alone.

* * *

"Good morning everyone!" Arthur Weasley's voice boomed across the dining table. Mrs. Weasley, the Weasley twins, Ron, Ginny, Percy, including Hermione and Harry who were staying with the Weasleys for one month before proceeding to Hogwarts all jumped up simultaneously.

"Good morning, Dad," Ron whimpered.

"Have you heard?" Mr. Weasley's voice coated with excitement. His eyes gleamed, like a little child's. "Narcissa Malfoy filed a Separation Order on Lucius Malfoy! Imagine how poor Draco is torn."

"WHAT!" Ron, Harry and Hermione exclaimed together, their cutlery clanging onto their plates, they jaws hanging wide open.

"Now, don't look at me like that. I overheard someone from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement talking about that. It's the new rave in the Ministry of Magic! What a story, don't you think, children? How dramatic! Have Lucius ran off to find a mistress?"

Harry was the first to gather his wits.

"And what was her valid reason to inflict such an order?" Everyone at the table had also stopped eating the delicious pancakes Mrs. Weasley had prepared for them. Now, that dejected and annoyed look on her face is finally explained.

"Now that, is the most baffling thing of all," Mr. Weasley said, his voice suddenly low, as if there was anyone else in this room who should not know. "That 'someone' I overheard, complained that this was the only case ever in history where high confidentiality is kept in the reason why such an order was inflicted. Even 'someone' knows nothing. And I also heard, that Dumbledore is very involved with this arrangement."

Percy, obviously bored with the topic started eating his breakfast again. Fred and George were contemplating on what reason it was.

"Lucius had a mistress!"

"He is gay!"

"He abused Malfoy sexually!"

Bursts of laughter could be heard.

"Bloody hell. Harry, can you imagine Malfoy without a father to cling on? I think he may be weeping at his bed now, crying, 'Father! Come back, Father! Why must I be separated from you! Now Potter won't be afraid of me anymore!' " Ron imitated Draco's voice and Harry smiled while Hermione poked Ron in the ribs. It just seemed so much of a mystery, and for Harry, his curiosity was just his downfall…

"NOW BE QUIET EVERYONE!" Molly Weasley screamed from her seat, her right hand clenching on her knife and the left on her fork. Both cutleries were quivering because she was shaking with rage. Everyone at the table could feel her anger; like waves of heat licking dangerously against their faces. No one dared to disobey. Even Fred and George had their faces almost flat into their pancakes.

"Thank you very much, my dears," she said sweetly, "oh my darling Percy is still the best." She cooed. Ron grunted.

Bad move.

"Ronald Weasley. I SAID EAT!"

* * *

One month passed quickly and everything needed were purchased. As for Draco, his mother had brought in all his necessary clothes and books for the new year, gave him a teary goodbye and both mother and son embraced each other for a long while. He was worried for his mother, but had learnt in his six years in Hogwarts to trust Dumbledore in everything he did.

Every night Draco sat at his bed, thinking of what it would be like if his mother had not saved him from Father. What it would be like to be a Death Eater, an unwilling one, with the Dark Mark on his arm. What it would be like to face the Dark Lord one day and serve him, kissing his feet at the same time trembling under his watchful gaze. A life full of fear and little choices, Draco concluded one faithful night. A life where the only thing he could do is to please the Dark Lord and never to offend him. A life he would rather die than experience.

Once, for he had forgotten when, (during his one month stay he did not keep track of time) Draco had taken a stroll at the school gardens, careful to avoid the monstrous willow. He remembered thinking of how much his life had changed. That now he was finally facing real dangers, to escape his destiny, and leaving his very pampered past life. Was this how Potter once felt? This emptiness and lost? This confusion and fear, fear of making the wrong decisions when knowing that the decision you will make concerns the livelihood of yourself and many other people? Was this how he had felt? If it was so, Potter was a brave person. Reluctantly that was what Draco admitted. Surprisingly over the past few days he had matured. He no longer lived on the fact that he hated Potter. He was even starting to understand that Gryffindor. And he hated it. He hated changes, he always had. So he did the thing he was best at. Whenever he feels an unwanted emotion, Draco pushes it down with all his might, until it is completely gone and hidden under the deep recesses of his heart. Then Dumbledore appeared from nowhere in the garden and soon they were walking together.

Funny how Draco used to dislike this sickening old man. Ah yes, he remembered Lucius saying, "Never trust that fool of Dumbledore, my dear boy. He will be your very downfall. He had always been foiling my plans." But that was when he was still young, naïve, ignorant that what his father actually was planning was evil.

Murderous.

Forbidden.

He was starting to look at Dumbledore in a new light now. The wise man who understands practically everyone he meets.

"You know, Draco, I have always thought you were a child with wonderful potential. A child, like your mother had said, with a beautiful heart. You feared your father, I know." It didn't feel good hearing Dumbledore addressing and finding out his fear, and Draco was a bit surprised that he did, but it seemed as if Dumbledore could do anything. "Your father brought you up by making you afraid. By forcing you to listen to him. Then he told you the wonders of violence, and fear, how much these two things can make people cower and frightened of you. As a young boy, you were fascinated, and your conduct in school wasn't that good, either."

He paused, the only sound coming from the muffled shuffling of their shoes. The full moon was high up in the air, and Draco thought he heard the howl of a werewolf.

"You met Harry, a boy who survived the Dark Lord; someone your father served. A boy who contained a huge amount of power. You became jealous."

"No…" He tried to protest but knew that Dumbledore could see right through him.

The headmaster merely smiled, the skin crinkling at the side of his eyes, and his spectacles glinted under the silvery moonlight. Absently Draco looked down at his shoes and kicked some stones.

"Then there was Hermione. You call her a 'Mudblood' but because you are also jealous of her intelligence. As for Ronald, you envied his large and loving family. You may not know these things yet, for you have a lot left to learn, but you will, in time to come unearth the reasons behind the jealousy. You will grow, and with the right direction, into a fine man indeed. Then last of all, you wanted a friendship like theirs. I must say, it was actually Voldemort who gave these three children such a precious gift – friendship. They went through thick and thin together, fighting Voldemort, which caused their relationship to grow. I doubt, Mr. Malfoy, that you are so close to your own friends?"

They stopped by the lake and Draco shoved his hands into his pockets, ignoring Dumbledore's question. He no longer tried to deny, and that surprised him tremendously. In the past, he hated anyone who judged him. But now, he is listening to Dumbledore, and he even ponders upon his words. Like now, now, when they are by the still lake, the perfect reflection of the moon carved onto the surface of the water. There was a profound serenity obscuring his heart there and then; and Draco thought, really thought hard, whether he never really hated Ron, Harry and Hermione but was only jealous about them.

He thought about his fears and insecurities. On the reasons why he liked picking on people. And by the one month, he had finally opened his heart, searched thoroughly through its contents, and attained enlightenment.

Draco Malfoy was a changed person.


	3. Three

"Do you see Malfoy?" Ron asked on the train.

Harry managed some convincing half-hearted glances around _their carriage_ then absently replying, "Hmm? No, he's not here."

"Of course he isn't here!" Ron exclaimed. He wondered why Harry wasn't as curious as him. Both Ron and Hermione knew that Harry had always a soft spot for _mysteries…_

"Come on, Ron. Get a grip on yourself. Do you have to waste your time on that Malfoy ingrate?" Hermione said, without looking up from her new potions textbook.

Ron popped a 'Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans' into his mouth gingerly, afraid of what this flavour might be. Upon taking the first bite, he spat it out immediately.

"Ginger! Good Heavens, ginger!" He sputtered, but no one noticed him. Harry was too busy looking out of the window, lost in his train of thought, while Hermione was still looking at that damn book.

"You took the risk, Ron," Hermione spoke again.

"Fine, fine! You win! I really wonder why you always liked to pick on me! It's not like I'm Malfoy or something!" He fell silent for the rest of the journey then, in the end choosing Chocolate Frogs over those beans again, which was much safer and more delicious.

Actually, Hermione's books were just a façade. In actual fact, she was as curious as Ron to find out what had happened to Draco and where he lived now. Perhaps, Narcissa Malfoy's maternal home? But there was still no definite answer, and some itching, nosy part of Hermione wanted to know. That mean, evil brute who thought the whole world owes him a living was actually in trouble now! After all, he just looked a Mummy's boy, always screaming for his mother whenever he got afraid. Just a coward who pretended to be a bully. Hermione would very well like to see how he was getting on now and certainly hoped he was miserable, alone and cold without his precious Daddy. She almost laughed aloud and knew that Harry was thinking at the same line as her. Except for the last part, of course, Harry never had a very mean streak in him.

What had Lucius Malfoy done actually? And why was Dumbledore in the picture? This certainly made the whole matter far more interesting.

* * *

As Harry walked up the steps to the castle, trying to stay in line with the crowd, he caught a glimpse of familiar Slytherin green from a nearby tall pillar. Why, it was Draco Malfoy, crossing his arms across his chest, his grey eyes looking at Harry, only at Harry. Malfoy looked a lttle unusual and different this time, though Harry could not fathom why and how it is different. Malfoy averted his gaze, to someone standing beside him, and Harry turned to see Hermione.

"Why are you stopping? You're clogging up everyone." Ron asked, but saw Malfoy in time. The trio stepped out a bit from the people, thus refraining from obstructing the crowd.

"If it wasn't for Harry Potter…" Malfoy murmured under his breath.

Hermione noticed that his hair was much longer, white blond that grew up to the nape of his neck. At least it looked better during his first and second year in Hogwarts, which was the slick back style that she and Ron had always laughed about. And his grey eyes – there was something disturbing in them. He looked older. Much older.

"Malfoy, I heard your father is on a Suspension Order?" Ron aimed his attack straight and true.

Harry thought of interrupting Malfoy's answer, because he did not feel like getting into trouble on the first day of school. However, Malfoy reacted quite unexpectedly.

"Yes."

He sounded almost world weary, Hermione lamented, but chased that thought away to he just speaking a little too softly. But what had happened to his usual snide comments? That mean streak he always had?

"What are you doing here anyway?" Hermione asked? "Why weren't you on the train?"

An odd look ran across his face and he hesitated. "I stayed here for a month. Why, being a busybody, M – mud… Muggle?" Malfoy snapped. Or rather, _tried to_. He lacked his usual spirit. He was failing to scare her, terribly. Except that…

A muggle! He never called her that! It's was always a Mudblood. What has happened anyway? Was it because of the 'blow' he had suffered? Hah! Self pitying bastard. He should know that his suffering was less than Harry's, who had enough family members who died.

"MALFOY!" a shriek came from behind Hermione and she watched as Pansy Parkinson practically flung her whole self onto Malfoy, and Hermione wondered whether he could breathe, judging from the way Parkinson was wrangling onto his neck.

Apparently not.

He started coughing a few seconds later.

"Let – me… Me GO!" Malfoy said, choking at the same time.

"Shame on you, Malfoy," Hermione said levelly, "fancy being raped by a _girl._"

Ron burst into incredible fits of laughter and Harry was trying to stifle his. Instantly Malfoy turned to a beet red, and lugged a doe eyed Parkinson along with him who was groping onto his arm.

But not before he said something to Hermione.

Not before he whispered "Mudblood' into her ear.

So he was the same after all, thought Hermione. She felt no anger, for she was quite used to him telling her that for the past six years in Hogwarts. She had realized, as she was growing up, that taking a bastard's words in heart was just showing him how much he affected her. She shrugged inwardly and followed Harry and Ron with the crowd.

* * *

After the Grand Feast, Draco successfully managed to shrug the sickening Pansy away and headed back to the common room earlier than the others, who still had not finished their fill yet. His footsteps echoed through the empty hallway and he thought of the reaction he had when he saw Potter, Weasley and Granger together. Recently he never smiled. Always thinking, always searching for something but not knowing what it could be.

He had felt a sudden uncomfortable twist in his heart, which was how he felt every time he saw those three people. He thought it was hate and intense dislike at first; like he always did in the past, but Dumbledore's words rang in his ears and he thought twice. Was this how jealousy feels like? Or was it hate? Whatever it was, it was not comfortable. He disliked the similar twinkle that each of them had in their eyes, and how happy they had looked together before noticing _him. _Like they really hated him. And he supposed they do. Always insulting them, playing pranks, tricks, sometimes, even endangering them. They had a valid reason to hate him. But for Draco?

What reason has he got?

He sighed to himself, knowing that he never hated those three people. What was wrong with him anyway? During the one month he had already thought everything through! He had already known that it was really only plain jealousy he felt for them, and why was he doubting these feelings again? And suddenly he didn't want to think anymore. He had become so tired. So worn out…

But he saw Granger then, walking towards him, a book in hand as always, but both halted the moment they noticed each other. Now this was his chance. Just one more question, one more thought, and he could let everything go. He watched her brown eyes widen from shock to fear, then to pure disdain. _Yes, _he thought sadly. _They really do hate me. _

"Granger." He almost smirked. He was so used to smirking every time he saw her that he almost did that. Only that he did not stop himself on purpose. It was as if his body was trying to defy his brain by itself. Draco started walking towards her. She closed her book and hugged it for dear life, as if it was her amulet to protect herself from him. Maybe it was. She could very well throw the book at him and run away. If she must.

"What do you want?" She snapped, looking at him, knowing that it was time for one of his insults again. As much as she did not want to be affected by him, she was worried of how her hair looked like now. She thought it looked better than its previous bushy state when she was younger…

Hermione started taking steps backwards when she saw the look on his face. His steely grey eyes almost looked as if he was in denial, like he was desperate; and had lost nothing but his usual maniacal gleam. Soon, Hermione realized and panicked, she was driven against the cold stone wall, with Malfoy just standing a few inches apart from her. She fought the urge of punching him straight in his arrogant nose. Furthermore, she was a grown up girl now, and could distinctively feel his strong male presence. Stop it! She commanded herself. This boy, this male, this Malfoy who always sniggered at her, laughed at her hair and teeth, this bastard, was actually scaring her!

"I need to ask you something – please, do not be afraid, I mean no harm." Hermione almost could not believe her ears. "Do you hate me?" in the dim lit hallway she could see the flickering fire torches dancing in his cold flinty eyes and somehow something stirring in them told her that he needed the truth. The very plain truth.

"Yes," Hermione spat at him, "the moment you called me a 'Mudblood' I have hated you! You hate me too, don't you? Sickening Pureblood?"

He spoke nothing. Only looked at her.

"How does hating me feels like?"

"Why – M…Malfoy, why would you want to know?" He remained silent, just continued looking at her with piercing eyes. "Well, I was just speaking figuratively, not literally. I mean, _hate _is a strong word. I don't want you dead, oh no, hating means wanting someone dead, well no, I mean…" Hermione stopped herself when she realized that she was babbling nonsense. Somehow all rational thoughts in her head had fled the moment she saw the vast sadness and loss in his eyes. It is not as if he often showed his feelings to people. Now thinking of it, it was even a wonder that he had feelings and emotions at all. But now joy seemed to be the right word that she saw written all over his face.

"Now, you get away from me." Hermione felt the urge to push him at his chest, but almost blanched at the thought that she would have to touch him. No, anyone but him. This weirdo. He seemed to be having mood swings since turning seventeen.

He took a step away from her, but not before he kissed her hair and said, "Thank you, Hermione", then with a sweep of his robes, disappeared into the darkness of the hallway. A stunned Hermione remained plastered on the wall, still feeling Malfoy's lingering presence.

A few seconds later the Great Hall's doors burst open, and people started flooding the hallway, walking back to their respective common rooms, as if nothing has happened. _Of course nothing has happened, _Hermione scolded herself.

_But something did. _

_Something did…_


End file.
